


The Runaways

by Arctic_comet



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-06-09 19:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15274434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arctic_comet/pseuds/Arctic_comet
Summary: Gilead is no more, but the demons of the past still haunt everyone involved. Nick and June have gone their separate ways, but when Fred Waterford escapes in a massive prison break, Nick can no longer stay away.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Waves* Hi guys, I'm back with another multi-chapter hiatus fic! I'll do my best to update every 1-2 weeks, but I have a 3-month-old, so I may not be able to stick to it (writing on your phone while trying to get the baby to sleep only works for a while until it starts making you crazy). This story may have other POVs besides just Nick and June's.

When Nick first entered the bar in Toronto, he fully intended to take up a seat in some corner, get a few beers and mind his own business. However, as it happened, he wasn’t the only former Gilead resident out for a drink or few that night. As Moira staggered in front of him, glaring at him like she would at a bedbug or possibly a rattlesnake, he figured nothing good was going to come out of the discussion.

“Why are you still here? There’s nothing for you. I don’t get it. You’re fine taking advantage of June and Luke’s kindness, and for what?” Nick bit his tongue.

The truth wasn't his to tell, no matter how much he wanted to yell at Moira and tell her that he's Holly’s father, maybe even that June had loved him at one point in time, although that part felt even more personal than Holly's true paternity. So he said nothing.

“Aren’t you even going to defend yourself?” Asked Moira, leaning over the table.

“You’ve already given me your verdict. What could I possibly say that’d make a difference?” He hissed back, trying not to raise his voice. They'd get thrown out of the bar if this escalated.

“You’re _pathetic_. It’s men like you who made it happen. Just because you never raped anyone or held anyone down to be raped doesn’t make you a decent person. Or even that you helped get June, Hannah and Holly out. If it were up to me, you’d be in prison.”

He nodded, swallowing the last of his beer.

“Fair enough. But what did Luke do to save June? Tell me, Moira. She’s his wife and what did he do? _What did he do?_ ” He knew he should shut the hell up before he gives himself away completely, but it's not easy when you've drank more than in years and are trying to nurse a bad case of jealousy.

“You don’t have the right to criticize him. Do you have a thing for June or something? Well, in case you do, let me make one thing clear to you: you’re scum, and she’s never going to leave Luke. They’re going to be together for the rest of their lives,” she spat, her arm sweeping his beer glass off the table. It hit the floor, breaking into shrapnel. Well, that was sure to gain the attention of the bartender.

“I know," he replied.

“Good. Now things would be on their way to becoming pretty good if you took up and left us all alone," she continued. Then, all of a sudden, she turned away from him and her shoulders began to shake.

Oh shit. Now Moira’s crying. He sighed. She’d never let him comfort her, so decided to do the the next best thing, which would be leaving her alone.

Pulling his jacket on, he slid off the bench and left the bar without a single word to Moira. She’d drank more than him, and obviously needed someone to blame, but he couldn’t help but agree with her, at least partially. Moira may not know the whole truth, but did it matter? The idea that he's overstayed his welcome had crossed his mind more than once, especially recently.

***

A long walk in the fresh night air cleared his head from any effects of the beer, but as he already knew, there were no easy answers to his problems. Maybe it really was time to go. With this new resolve, he walked back to the apartment where June, Holly, Hannah and Luke were asleep.

He didn't want to say goodbye, but at the same time he couldn't stay, either. He didn't belong there, like Moira said. June and he would've never even met if her entire life hadn't been destroyed first. Shame for his own part in it nearly suffocates him. In Gilead, he often felt like there was no room to breathe, as there were so few choices to be made. Despite all the choices he now has, the feeling remains. The only choice he could make now was to hurt less.

Leaving in the middle of the night without a word was a coward’s choice, but hedidn't know what he’d say to June. And saying goodbye to Holly would've meant waking up June, as she was asleep in the same room as her mother and Luke. Holly. _His daughter._ She was the best thing he’d ever been responsible for, she deserved the best life possible. They'd teach her about Gilead in school, using it as a cautionary tale, there was no need for her to live with a father who made it all happen, who was responsible.

June kept saying she’d tell Luke everything, but Nick could see how much she’d rather forget and move on. If he left, there would be no reason for her to say anything to Luke if she didn't want to. The guy had gotten used to the thought of Holly as Waterford's baby, and yet he treated her well. Still, Nick couldn't fathom sticking around and watch his daughter be raised by another man, not even a good guy like Luke. And he was gracious enough to back off and give up, but not strong enough to watch the only woman he’d ever loved live happily ever after with her husband. Nick's mission had been completed with June and her daughters now safe in Canada. As much as he'd enjoyed the fantasies of himself with a family, he now saw them for what they were: a mirage. 

He didn't have much to his name, pretty much only the clothes on his back, a phone, some money and the amenities kit provided by a Canadian charity. Deodorant, a toothbrush and toothpaste, some razors and shaving cream. Soap. He folded the pull-out couch he'd been sleeping on for the past few weeks, removing all trace of himself. Before Gilead he'd been invisible, ignored by most people. In Gilead he'd been invisible, always in the background, in the shadows. But June had seen him. And now, after Gilead, after June, he would turn invisible once more. His endgame was to disappear into the shadows.

Nick already had a hand on the doorknob when the lights flickered on, startling him. He’d been caught.

“Where are you going?” Asked June, blinking at the lights as she pulled the bedroom door closed behind her and Holly.

Nick took note of the small bundle in her arms.

“Away,” he answered, unprepared to have this one last discussion with June. For so many times in Gilead he'd believed he'd never see her again, and no goodbyes had been uttered then, so why start now?

“You don’t have to go, Nick. I’ll tell Luke everything, it’s just that... I haven’t found the right words yet, and I don’t want to hurt him. I don't know if he'd understand,” she whispered.

“I know. You can tell him if you want to, but you don’t have to... Not for my sake.”

“You have a right to be Holly’s dad.”

“And she has a right to the best life possible.”

“She should know where she comes from.”

“Does she, June? Luke already loves her as if she’s his. Holly doesn’t need me here.” _Nobody_ needed him there.

June merely stared at him in response.

“What are you going to do?” She asked.

He shrugged.

“The country needs rebuilding. I thought I’d go and offer my services. It feels like a good place to start.”

She nodded.

Sure, his life in the United States Of America hadn’t been great, but it had been home regardless. And maybe it would be Holly and June’s home again someday. That made it worth the trouble. Not to mention that he’d be trying to make up for his mistakes for the rest of his life.

“Would you... Could I hold her for a little while? To say goodbye?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

It was hardly the first time he'd held his daughter, but it would be the last.

Nick took her from June, careful as always. She was still so impossibly small, and he still felt like a bull in a china shop when he handled her, even though she was definitely sturdier now than as a newborn.

Her eyes met his, and he thought of the walks he’d taken with her sleeping in her stroller, allowing June to catch up on sleep. Of the times he’d held up a toy in front of her and been awarded with a smile. In a way it was easy to say goodbye to someone who couldn't speak yet.

“You be good to your mom, okay, Holly? You won’t remember me, but I won’t forget about you," he said, his voice strained. God, he was going to start crying, wasn't he?

What would she look like a year from now? Or in five or ten years? Would she look like him? He hoped she won’t look too different from June and Hannah, that she’d never think of herself as an outsider, like he often had. That she’d never think she didn’t belong with her family. She was his only living blood relative now, there’s nobody else left in the world. Just the two of them. 

"I love you,” he murmured against the baby’s forehead. The words may have been directed at Holly, but he was talking to June, too. Voicing the forbidden words once more. They'd held power in Gilead, but no more. Now they’re feeble, coming from a man with no power, no prospects.

What they'd had in Gilead had meant a lot more to him than it did to her, he knew that. And as fucked up as that is, it actually makes him believe in God. This is his punishment. Falling in love, having to watch her suffer, saving her and being left with nothing in the end. A part of him wished he was dead, because without his girls he had nothing but a lonely, empty existence to look forward to. If he were more naive, he’d probably beg June for a chance, to let him convince her that she could love him if she gave them a fair shot. But he was not that big of an idiot.

There were no happy endings for people like him. Hearing a sniffle coming from June, Nick opened his eyes. Her eyes are wet, and after a moment’s hesitation, he reached out to pull her into his arms. _Just one last time._ He still couldn't bear seeing her cry.

As he was about to slip his arm around her, they heard the sound of tiny socked feet. They both pulled away simultaneously.

“Why are you not sleeping?” inquired Hannah, rubbing her eyes.

“I had to change your sister’s diaper, and Nick is leaving,” replied June.

“Why?” she asked, now turning to Nick.

He passed the baby back to June and crouched down in front of Hannah.

“Well, this is your home. I can’t stay here forever, can I?”

“But my daddy said it was okay if you lived here with us.”

“And that was very nice of him, but I can’t stay. I’m going to build houses down south.”

“Are you going to see your own family?” she asked.

He hesitated again.

“I don’t have one, Hannah. It’s just me.”

“But you have friends, like my mom and dad.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Will you come and visit sometime?”

“I don’t think so. I'm going very, very far.”

Hannah nodded.

“It was great meeting you, Hannah,” Nick concluded, offering the girl his hand.

Hannah took it and he squeezed it gently.“Be good to your mom, and take care of your sister.”

She nodded at him again, her expression grave.

“I promise.”

“Good girl.”

With that, he stood back up and headed for the door. There were only two words left to say, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to voice them. To make this real, _permanent._ He stopped, his hand on the lock of the door.

“Goodbye, June,” he managed, without looking back.

The door clicked shut behind him and he took a step away from it. His feet were heavy as lead.


	2. Chapter 2

It was Day 210 of June's freedom. To outsiders, everything probably seemed perfect. Two healthy little girls, a nice husband, but the truth wasn't that simple. She now worked at the American Embassy now, in the PR department. Now she had all the freedom she could hope for, and yet on most days she was unable to go anywhere except work and the grocery store. _Would her mind ever become less fucked up?_ Gilead was still within her and it always would be, no matter how much she wanted it gone. 

Still, not all the memories were bad. She'd found camaraderie and friendships she still maintained with Rita, Janine and Emily. As hard as she'd tried to, she hadn't been able to shake the image of the man who’d saved her in more ways than one.  What it’d been like to be noticed, treated and touched like a person amongst all that daily horror. How they’d spent countless days together during her time away from the Waterford house, hiding in the Boston Globe building.

It’d been a slaughterhouse, but you could truly get used to anything. And it’d always been better with Nick there. Comforting her when she needed it, often by not even saying a thing, holding her when she needed to feel safe, letting her use him to release her anger and frustration when that was what she needed. Even touching her more firmly when she couldn’t bear gentleness, despite his obvious preference of being as loving with her as possible. She wouldn’t be alive without him, but her feelings for him went beyond gratitude. The thing was that relationships forged in extreme conditions didn’t tend to last. Feelings faded, or at the very least they were supposed to. 

Shaking her head, June forced herself back into the present. She was at home with the girls, with Luke doing a late shift. The TV blared on as she cut up fruit for Hannah's snack. Usually she paid little attention to it, feeling the need to focus on any menial task rather than letting her mind wander, but the overtly serious tone of the reporter on screen grabbed her attention.

_"At this time, we can confirm that at least 50 former Gilead commanders have escaped after a bloody riot, leaving ten prison guards dead. All escaped prisoners were still waiting for their trials. The breakout appears to have been carefully planned. At this time the whereabouts of the prisoners are unknown. The public is advised to stay on alert, and all ports of entry will be given a full list of the wanted men, complete with photographs."_

June felt as if someone had just walked over her grave. Fifty commanders on the loose. She swallowed. _Would some of them come here, looking for their former handmaids and the children they'd supposedly produced?_ Her first instinct was to keep Hannah out of school and Holly out of daycare until they were caught. She couldn't go to work, either. 

Her phone vibrated to signal the arrival of a new message. The first thing that made her gasp was the fact that the message was from Nick. Four months of _nothing_ , and now this. The second thing was even more important, though, and far scarier: the contents of the message itself. 

_Did you hear about Waterford?_

Fuck. No. No. Nonononononono.

_He’s on the run, too?_

His reply came instantly.

_Yes._

Fortunately she'd just gotten Holly to settle in for a nap, and Hannah was in her room, drawing, so she could do what she always did these days when things got overwhelming; she locked herself in the bathroom. Opening a drawer, she grabbed a paper bag. _Just in case._  Whenever the worst memories took over, she sat in the living room, first breathing into a paper bag, and then conjuring better memories. They offered her little help now.

 _God._ She felt like choking, as if Fred Waterford was already on the other side of the bathroom door.

Suddenly the screen of her phone lit up, Nick’s name flashing on it. How could she talk to anyone when she couldn’t even breathe properly? _Get a grip, June._ That was what she'd told Moira to do a long time ago, but had then proven time and time again that _she_ was the one who couldn't keep her shit together.

The issue with not answering Nick's call, however, was that she yearned to hear his voice now. Like in Gilead, she decided to grab onto the rope thrown at her drowning form. Taking a deep breath, she answered the call.

"Hi," said Nick. He sounded out of breath. _Hadn't he expected her to answer?_

"Hey," she replied, wondering if she sounded equally breathless.

"Do you think he'll be able to find us is he wants to?" She asked.

The silence on the other end of the line drove her insane.

"Jesus, Nick, answer me!" She demanded.

"Look, June, I don't know! Maybe. There have always been Gilead-sympathizers in Canada... I gave away the names of the ones I knew of, but there must've been others."

"So I'm not safe."

"He'd be an idiot to not try to just get out of North America."

"He _is_ an idiot, Nick.”

“I know.”

"You know how he is with me. He's never going to let go," she sobbed, hoping to God that Hannah wouldn't hear her.

She could hear Nick breathing, but he said nothing for what felt like minutes. 

"I was thinking... I could come back, keep an eye on things. Until he's caught... But I won't, if you think it'd be awkward," he said, his voice tense.

"No... I think you should come, if you want to. Where are you now, anyway?" She asked.

“In Boston, actually...” he replied. “We’ve been cleaning the Boston Globe building this week,” Nick continued.

“Oh,” she gasped. _Was her makeshift memorial still intact?_

“We spared your shrine... The others thought it was important... To save something to remind us.”

“Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me.”

"Do you want to see Holly when you're here?"

"Is that a good idea?"

"That's up to you."

"Yeah... I'd like to see her, if that's okay."

"When can you be here?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good."

"They might catch Waterford and the others quickly."

"I hope so, but still, it's better to be careful, right?"

"Yeah."

"See you tomorrow."

"June, one more thing."

"What?"

”I should’ve killed him when I had the chance. I’m sorry," he sighed. She nodded stupidly, as if he could see her. Words failed her yet again, as they often did these days. She didn't know how to tell him that she didn't blame him, that he'd done all he could under the circumstances. That she knew what it was like to see monsters like the Waterfords as human, and hope to the last possible moment that there was something decent, something good in them. The more time you'd spent in Gilead and in the gloomy Waterford house, the more they'd all submitted. Her. Rita. Nick. Defiance had come in waves, first rising and then retreating, only to rise again. 

Nick, who had submitted too, who had spent months and even years in servitude. Who had become numb to the horrors of Gilead. Until one day the cup had finally overflowed. So she didn’t blame him for not killing Waterford, as June herself wasn’t sure she’d been able to do it herself, if offered the chance. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Any of you," Nick continued.

Angry tears leaked out of her eyes. She hated feeling like she needed to be protected.  _How could it be so hard to remember that she was no longer a helpless Handmaid, but a free woman?_ She didn’t have to wait for Waterford to come after her and rely on Luke or Nick. She had power and would use it on Fred if she showed up.

First, she needed to talk to Luke. She would have to explain Holly's true paternity, although June doubted Waterford had much interest in Holly, since she wasn’t his and didn’t possess a penis. That in itself was a blessing, but she couldn’t keep her own fear at bay. The man was obsessed with her. As far as he was concerned, she was his property. As good as a piece of furniture. Or luggage. Or a dog you kept in a cage, only to feed them and play with them every once in a while to make them think you liked them, that you wanted something more from them than just the feeling of absolute power. 

***

Later that night, Luke was barely out of his work clothes when June already cornered him on the couch.

”We need to get a gun, Luke.”

“What? No way. We have kids in the house, imagine what could happen if Hannah found it.”

“All I can imagine is what can happen if Waterford comes here.”

“Which you don’t even know is happening! Like they said on the news, they think the commanders are heading for Europe or South America.”

She'd texted Luke soon after ending the call with Nick, telling him that Waterford was no longer imprisoned. 

“You don’t know him the way I do.”

“I know he’s an asshole and a rapist. The police will deal with him, and if he happens to show up here, I’ll handle him.”

Luke didn’t know what Waterford was capable of, as she hadn’t wanted to recount the worst parts, the memories that kept her awake at night and made her want to vomit. She’d been angry and hateful, as well as scared and submissive when it came to Waterford. Most of all, she remembered his sadism, how he’d used her as a sex toy, how he’d had the audacity to take her out “on a date” before raping her, as if she was voluntarily with him and being romanced. He'd made a mockery of something she'd enjoyed before Gilead. She didn’t know if she could ever go out for a night of dinner and dancing again. _Fuck Fred Waterford._  

“Like you protected me and Hannah from being taken in the first place?”

“That’s not really fair, June.”

“You don’t know what it was like to live in Gilead, so please forgive me if I don’t trust you over my own judgement.”

How could Luke ever understand that there had been a time she’d let Waterford do to her anything he wanted? How she’d been so frozen, so numb, so defeated that she’d let him rape her without saying or doing a thing.

“Do you wish I’d been there? Forced to do whatever job they gave me, assuming they decided not to kill me?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what the hell do you want from me? I can’t understand what you went through if you  don’t tell me, and I’m not an idiot. I know there’s a lot you’re keeping from me.”

“So what if there is? It’s my business.”

“If you want this to work, you need to be more open with me. I can’t help or understand you if I don’t even know what I’m dealing with.”

This was it. 

"Holly isn't Waterford's daughter," she blurted.

Luke frowned.

"I don't understand... What do you mean she's not his daughter? And why would you lie about something like this?" He asked, making regret squeeze June's throat, not only for Luke, but for Nick as well. She should've told Luke a long time ago. 

"Waterford is sterile, and his wife knew that. So she suggested we use someone else, someone she trusted. She made Nick sleep with me," she explained.

Fully aware that she sounded like a robot, she didn't stop because if she stopped to think or to feel, she'd inevitably tell more than she wanted. So her answer was to tell as little as possible and hope he didn't ask too many questions so she'd avoid having to lie. Which one would truly bother him more if he knew everything: her allowing Waterford to use her like a plaything or her choosing to go to Nick? That she’d been attracted to another man, and even initially it hadn’t been only about his body, for she had also been drawn to him by his kindness. Then... The more he had revealed of himself, the more she had wanted to see.

Even if it had only been to prove to herself that there could be good men in even the most horrible of places. Or at least one. An honest man. A smart man. A loyal man. A brave man. A loving man. A man who laughed at her stupid attempts at humor. A man who would’ve let her leave him stranded in an abandoned building with no car or weapon. What they’d shared had been a miracle, like a rose growing in a bench full of shit. A sign that not all the things she’d used to live for before Gilead could be mutilated or killed, no matter how hard you tried. They said ideas couldn’t be killed, and neither could love. For love was the strongest of ideas. It had bloomed even in Eden, who she’d at first taken for nothing more than a threat to herself, to Nick’s life, a brainwashed teenager.

"So you're telling me that _Nick_ is Holly's biological father? Your friend Nick, the guy who crashed on our couch for nearly a month?"

June nodded.

He shook his head before burying his face into his palms.

"My God, June. Why would you lie about something like this? Why did Nick lie about it?"

"He didn't want to make things more complicated for me, for you and me."

"And he doesn't want anything to do with Holly?"

"He loves her, Luke."

"But he left!"

June closed her eyes.

"I'm telling you the truth now because I want you to understand that Waterford's not coming after Holly, she's not his. He wants _me._ "

Luke sighed.

"We'll go to the police tomorrow, ask them if they have a plan in place to protect you. Nevertheless... I still want to know why you lied to me about Holly."

"If Nick had stayed, I would've told you. But since he left and we didn't have to set up his visitation rights or anything, I felt that it was... More simple."

Luke reached out, lifting June's chin with his forefinger.

"I still think you're hiding something-" he started. June wanted nothing but to look away, but she forced herself to hold his gaze.

"- but I'm willing to wait it out, until you're ready to tell me, as long as the secret isn't that Nick is some brutal rapist. You still swear that he's a good guy?"

She nodded.

“He is, and he’s coming here. To keep an eye in case Waterford comes here.”

“That’s... Good of him,” he said. Despite Luke now hopefully believing that Nick only wished to protect his daughter, June didn't miss the resentment in his voice. _Could any secret truly be kept?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am back! Happy Easter to all who celebrate it :)

Nick knew it was a bad idea even before he contacted his gun supplier, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was that a bunch of madmen was at large. If he went to prison for possession of an illegal firearm or two, it'd be a small price to pay for June and Holly's safety. _They're not even yours to protect._ Except that wasn't really true. In his mind they were, and that was the only thing that counted.

Hell, he could’ve gone anywhere. He should’ve traveled as far away from Toronto as possible. Miami. San Antonio. Back home to Michigan. Even Hawaii with its sandy white beaches. But sitting on the edge of the water alone wouldn’t have felt right. He felt no desire to go to Hawaii anymore. Was the prison break nothing more but an excuse to see June and Holly again? Maybe, but he also planned on finishing the job if Fred was dumb enough to show up. Maybe that’d ease June’s pain, and maybe he’d be able to sleep again.He wasn’t supposed to have a gun of any sort, and they wouldn’t give him a permit to buy one legally, so he was again the proud owner of an illegal firearm. Or two, to be more exact.

In Canada, most people didn’t find safety in a weapon, but he was a paranoid SOB and the people he was up against wouldn’t hesitate to kill him either. Why should he be the underdog, especially when he had people to protect? He refused to be helpless anymore. Every time he closed his eyes, the nightmares were there waiting for him. Eden’s execution. Fred raping June, hitting her. The first Offred dead by her own hand. All the other innocent people who had lost their lives in Gilead because of people like him, because he hadn’t cared enough, had allowed himself to be fooled. They could rebuild the roads, homes, offices and airports, but there was no fixing the people. It was Holly’s generation that could get things working again, since they’d have few to no memories of Gilead.

He remembered the weeks he'd spent hiding in the woods, somewhere close to the Gilead-Canada border, with no gun, just waiting for them to show up and hunt him down like an animal. The cold or the hunger hadn't even been the worst part, but the feeling of utter helplessness, knowing he had no way to fend for himself.

So he figured that he had a right to be a little jumpy. The fact that he'd carried a gun for the better part of his adult life probably played a part, too. Even though he'd been told to stay on the straight and narrow or risk jail time.

He'd never thought he'd see June or Holly again, but yet somehow luck had been on his side, and he'd made it to the other side, starved and shivering. Nothing could have prepared him for what had waited. Food. A change of clothes. A hot shower. Kindness. And most of all... June had put him on her list of family. He would've cried at the sight of her, if she hadn't shown up with the whole gang in tow. The girls. Luke. Moira. Apparently the call from the refugee center had interrupted a family dinner. He hadn't cried, but his first words to her had been revealing enough. _Why are you here?_

The moment he'd laid eyes on June in Canada for the first time was one of the memories he kept on reliving in his head during the dark hours he spent lying in bed, while others slept. He couldn't. There had been no peaceful slumber for him in months. Every time he closed his eyes, they came... All the things he'd done. All the evil that had taken place that was his fault. June's abuse. In his dreams it happened, over and over again, just like it had taken place in the Waterford house. All his fault. And he was right there, incapable of doing anything about it when they hurt her. 

 _Eden's death._ If only he'd been nicer to her, if he'd just tried... If he'd stuck to his own promise and not fallen for June. He could've kept her alive without getting too involved. 

 _The first Offred._ He hadn't cared enough about her, either.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, the reason he hadn't acquired a gun until now was that he'd been afraid he'd cave in and use it eventually. _On himself._

Why didn’t he just off himself then? Because someone would have to do the cleanup, and because June might find out. She cared about him, even if it was a form of Stockholm Syndrome. In Gilead he’d been the best she could find, and that really didn’t mean much. Either way, he didn’t want to upset her. 

Knowing he needed a place to sleep, Nick picked up his phone and dialed one of the only numbers aside from June's that he still had saved on his cell.

***

As Nick got off the bus in Toronto, he could hardly believe he'd just crossed the border into Canada alone, legally and with no issues to speak of, unless you counted the tightened security checks due to the prison break. It was all so... _Normal?_ No, that wasn't the right word. _Good_ was a better one. He'd learned to associate _normal_ with the controlled society of Gilead. On some days it was hard to understand that it no longer existed. 

The crowded streets held only strangers to him, but he had an address in his email, and a text from June.

_When will you be here?_

He stopped in front of an Italian restaurant to type a reply.

_Just got off the bus_

He saw that she'd read the message, but no answer came back. _Should they meet? Did she want to?_ The more he saw her and Holly now, the harder it would be to leave in the end.

Either way, his first order of business was to get to Rita’s and see if she let him live there for a while. She sure didn’t owe him anything, but he’d appreciated her almost weekly texts, usually just asking how he was doing. 

The building was old, and by the time he got to the 6th floor where Rita loved, he’d already heard at least seven different languages, none of which he spoke himself and some of which he wasn’t even able to name. America had been like this once, too. A melting pot. The problems had always been there, searing beneath the surface, but the fertility crisis had created space for the other so-called concerns to grow. Sexual minorities were of course blamed for the lack of babies, as was the disappearance and disrespect of traditional roles set for men and women. Hatred of people who didn’t look like you or live like you. Fear that there would no longer be space for the real American culture. What was that even supposed to be? Native American culture maybe, but that’s not what those people meant.

The Sons Of Jacob had told people that their jobs were stolen by not only women, but by immigrants too. Getting the racists on board hadn’t been hard. When he’d joined and seen the company he had, he’d still blindly told himself that he had nothing in common with them. He didn’t hate women. He didn’t hate people who didn’t look like him or spoke a different language. He didn’t hate gays. He just wanted to survive. They were all flimsy excuses, and he hated himself for every single one of them. 

The hallway was dark, the light bulbs given up, so it took a while for him to locate the door to Rita’s apartment. With the help of the flashlight on his phone, he found #63 and knocked.

He listened as the chain was undone inside before coming face-to-face with the Martha who had served in the same house with him all those years. Friendships had not been encouraged in Gilead, and he’d kept his distance from Rita too, but somehow he thought of her as a true friend. Probably the only one he had.

”Hi,” he said.

”Hello. Come on in.”

”Thanks.”

”Is that backpack all you have?”

”Never been one to collect stuff I don’t need.”

”I know. Have you had breakfast?”

”No, but-“

”I have a half of an omelette left. Come and eat.”

He considered arguing that he hadn’t come here to eat food, but wisely shut his mouth. There was no use arguing with this woman.

That was how he ended up sitting at Rita’s small kitchen table and scooping a ham and cheese omelette into his mouth. It was delicious, the best thing he’d had in months. 

"The room's yours if you want it,” she said, taking his dirty plate away. He felt embarrassed to have her serve him here. 

"I may not be here for long, Rita."

"So what? There's always someone looking for a room. It's not an issue."

"Thank you."

"I already know you're not more trouble than I can handle."

He couldn't stop himself from chuckling at that. 

The room itself was rather bare. According to Rita, a former roommate had left a small bookshelf and a desk with a chair behind, but there was no bed, only a mattress on the floor. It would do.

”This is perfect.”

Rita snorted. “Nick, it looks like a prison cell. It’s okay to say that.”

”But it’s not one.” And that was all that really mattered, although all things considered, would it have been wrong if he’d ended up in prison?

”At you going to see them?” 

The question shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did nevertheless. Rita had never been the type to pry.

”Uh, I don’t know. June hasn’t texted me back. She knows I’m here.”

”I saw her with your little girl last week. At the supermarket. She’s beautiful.”

He nodded. 

“You probably shouldn’t call her that, Rita...”

”Call her what, exactly?”

”My little girl. There’s no record anywhere of me being her dad, Luke’s name is on all her paperwork as her father. I’m not even a footnote.”

Thanks to all the confusion considering the parentage of hundreds of Gilead-born children and all the news reports about the court rulings, he now knows what changing that would entail. For a child in Canada like Holly, it would be a DNA test, but only if the current legal guardians of the child consented.

One of the cases he’d seen handled on TV reminded him of his own situation. A low-ranking Gilead man who had been blackmailed into having sex with the family’s Handmaid, which had resulted in a healthy baby boy. The now former Handmaid hated her son’s biological father almost as much as she hated her Commander. He’d seen the anger and sadness in her eyes while she’d stood at court. She and her husband hadn’t consented to a DNA test, but the guy hadn’t given up. He’d sued them, insisting on the test to obtain his parental rights. The situation was still ongoing, but he felt that no matter what happened, a can of worms had already been opened for that woman. She was being forced to come public with details she probably preferred not to think about at all. On the other hand, he looked at the guy and saw himself. Alone in the world, with no family, friends or direction. Desperate to feel there was someone out there who was still bonded to him. He didn’t know the man at all, so who knew if those were even his true motives, but whatever hey were, he was in the wrong. 

”Fatherhood isn’t about what’s on the paper.”

”I know, but it’s her reality too. Luke’s the only dad she’s ever known.”

”And whose fault is that?”

He was saved from answering by his phone, a text message popping on the screen.

”We’re at home, come and stop by when you can!”

“I have to go. See you later, Rita.”

”See you.”

***

He still knew the way to June's home. June and _Luke's_ home. That was a fact he had to remind himself of. There was no space for him there.

Nick only had to knock once before the door was opened. June stood at the doorstep with Holly on her hip. _God, how she'd grown. How much he'd missed out on. How much he would miss out on in the future._

Recovering, he turned to look at June, which wasn't really a much better choice. She still took his breath away. "Hey", she said softly, moving to wrap an arm around him. He accepted the embrace gratefully, careful to make sure he wasn't squeezing too hard and hurting Holly. 

"Hi," he whispered back.

"Let's go inside. Hannah's home too, but Luke's at work, so it's just us."

"All right."

He settled on the couch, where he'd spent several nights all those months ago. On the surface, not much had changed in the apartment. Maybe there were a few more toys to be found at first glance. In fact, he noticed he was sitting on a teddy bear and pulled it out. June had set Holly on the floor, where she was now eyeing the pink bear curiously. 

"You want to hold the bear?" He asked, his voice quiet, offering Holly the toy. She frowned, her eyes now focused on him. It wasn't a pleased gaze.

”Do you want to hold her?” Asked June.

“Would she mind?”

June shrugged. “She’s currently going through a stage where strangers scare her, but- oh, shit. I didn’t mean it like that, Nick,” she sighed, closing her eyes.

It hurt. It really did, but it also made sense. He was a virtual stranger to Holly, and that was how things would always be.

“It’s alright. I get it.”

“We can still see if she’d agree to let you hold her,” she suggested.

 Nick shook his head to decline. It would be different to know how Holly saw him than to see and hear it with his own eyes. That his own daughter rejected him. He didn’t know if he could handle that.

 “Let's just see what she does, okay?"

 “She moves so well now,” he murmured, watching the baby as she sat up by herself before crawling to a nearby chewing toy.

 “Yeah, she does.”

 “Nick?”

 “Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

He nodded. It was the best response he could’ve expected from her.

“Does Luke feel that way too?” He couldn’t help asking. What an absolutely shitty question that was.It was none of his business anyway.

“He thinks we’re both crazy, freaking out over nothing.”

Nick grunted in response, anger and unjustified jealousy taking over. Luke could not possibly know what they were dealing with.

Suddenly a small hand landed on his shoe. Then Holly twisted her neck, looking for eye contact. _With him._ Now the fear was gone from her eyes, transformed into curiosity.

That stopped him cold, all other thoughts escaping his brain.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, flashing what he hoped was an encouraging smile although he was about to start weeping like a total idiot.

Holly smiled back and gurgled. Pushing herself off the ground, she grasped onto his pant leg and before ending up on his knee. Using his knee to support herself, she stood on on shaky legs.

“Wow,” he gasped. “You’re such a smart little girl.”

“You can pick her up now,” prodded June, her voice now closer than before.

Reaching down, Nick placed his hands carefully under Holly’s arms and lifted her, settling her on his knee. She didn’t start crying or reach out for her mother, but turned to look at him and extended a hand to touch his face.

“She knows, Nick... I don’t know how, but she knows.” He didn’t have to look at June to tell that she was crying almost as hard as he was.

He nodded, unable to say anything.

It reminded him of another time in another place, with just the three of them in the same room, looking at Holly in wonder. It remained the single best moment of his entire life, as well as the only time June had told him she loved him. He desperately wanted to believe that in that moment it had been true.

Only this time he was only holding Holly, and June was standing across the room. _Too far._  

“Do you mind if I go and heat our lunch?” She asked, wiping her eyes.

“Of course not.”

As June retreated into the kitchen, Hannah joined him and Holly, a book clutched in her arms. 

“Hi Hannah,” he greeted the girl.

“Hi.” She was biting her bottom lip, the look in her eyes pensive.

“Do you wan to sit in the couch?” He asked, making a move to transfer himself to the floor with Holly, but Hannah shook her head.

“I heard my mom and dad talking. They said you’re Holly’s dad.”

“Oh.” So June had told him the truth, then. It was one less thing to have to hide for sure, but still, it hardly seemed to make the situation less complicated.

“Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is.” 

“Does that mean she’s going to live with you now?” 

Oh, so that was what was bothering her.

“No. She’s... Things are great for her here with you and your parents.”

“Are you going to visit us often then?” 

“Well, I’ve got some... Errands to run in Toronto, but when I’m ready, I’ll leave. But I might visit you sometimes while I’m still here. Is that- would you like me not to come?”

“You said you didn’t have a family, but if you’re Holly’s daddy, then she’s your family, isn’t she?”

“Families don’t always have to be related to each other, Hannah.”

“Like my Aunt Moira is our family but she’s not related to us?” 

“Yeah, exactly.”

“So it’s okay that my dad still says he’s Holly’s daddy too?”

Nick hesitated, not feeling exactly comfortablewith the discussion anymore.

“If that’s what he wants.”

“And she can call him her daddy too?”

He was starting to understand Hannah’s worry. She was concerned that the fragile stability she’d finally regained with her parents would be broken. _By him._

“If she wants to. Look, nothing has to change for you or your family. Holly’s still your sister, it doesn’t matter that I’m her dad. I’m never going to take her away from you.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

That seemed to calm the girl down and she settled into a chair, folded her legs and opened her book at the marked spot.

“Do you want to stay for lunch, Nick? It’s nothing special, just the leftovers from yesterday’s lasagne,” explained June, back from the kitchen. If she’d heard his exchange with Hannah, it didn’t show on her face. 

He glanced at Holly, who had happily wandered back to her toys and was babbling excitedly, her eyes on her mother. 

“No, thanks.” He felt even less comfortable at their apartment now that the truth was out, and even more so after his talk with Hannah. 

“Where are you staying?”

“I’m Rita’s roommate, until things are sorted out. I can give you the address,” he promised, grabbing a napkin to scrawl the address on.

“Thanks. And thank you for coming by.”

“No problem.” 

“Will you come again?”

Scratching his neck, he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to come back, but was that a smart move? For anyone? 

“I think me being here is confusing to Hannah,” he replied, lowering his voice. “She’s gone through enough, June,” he continued.

She nodded. “Well, would you like to spend time with just Holly then, during the day? I could give you permission to pick her up at daycare sometimes.”

Hesitating again, he considered his own desires and what would be the best for Holly.

“She doesn’t even know me,” he replied, shaking his head.

”And she never will if you don’t spend time with her.”

She was angry, her sharp tone and words like a punch to his gut. 

“I just came to make sure Waterford doesn’t hurt you, not to play dad and make things worse,” he hissed back.

”Do you know what you are Nick? A coward.”

”I know.”

He didn’t expect to hear from June again, at least not anytime soon, so he was taken in by surprise when she texted him in the middle of the night.

_I’m sorry, Nick._

_You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true._

_Holly, Hannah and me all owe our lives to you. You’re not a coward. Let me know if you change your mind about seeing Holly._

***

Three days passed by with no news of Waterford or the other fugitives. Nick also hadn't replied to June's latest text. He knew he would have to find a job soon, no matter how low-paid, if he was to be able to afford to stick around until Waterford was caught. Rita worked at a burger parlor a 30-minute subway ride away from the apartment, but it was definitely better than nothing. Sighing, he turned over on his mattress. He might as well get up since there was clearly no sleep to be had.

The first knock on the door was so faint that he wasn't sure he'd heard right. The second one got him to sit up and automatically reach for his gun. There was no third knock, but he could hear Rita's voice now. Cracking his door open, he took a peek. Rita was just holding the door open, allowing June to get inside with Holly's car seat. A pleasant warmth filled him at the sight of them.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi. Did I wake you?"

"No, I wasn't asleep. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just... I couldn't sleep, and I thought... I don't really know what I thought, actually. But I'm here, anyway. We're here."

"Come in. I can take that,” he said, extending a hand to take Holly’s carrier. She stayed sound asleep as he lifted her into the living room and placed the carrier on the floor as steadily and softly as he could.

Facing June, he found her staring back at him. It felt awkward. What was she looking for? What could he possibly have to offer? Of course Rita had disappeared, so there was no chance of her lightening the mood. So he waited for cues from her. She usually knew what she wanted, so who was he to venture a guess. 

“Can I see your room?” 

Nick blinked. That wasn’t the suggestion he’d been expecting.

”Sure. It’s not much though.”

The walk to his door was only a few steps, so they left Holly sleeping in the living room.

June took in the few pieces of furniture in his room, the lack of a real bed, or anything personal.

”It looks like a prison cell,” she commented.

Nick chuckled darkly. “That’s what Rita said. I don’t mind it.”

”Because you’re not staying?” 

“Even if I was, I still wouldn’t mind,” he sighed before clamping his mouth shut. There was no reason to go on and yap about him not needing a presentable place because there was nobody who it needed to be shown to, nobody to placate or to impress.

”Would you mind if I tried to get some sleep here?”

”Of course not. I’ll bring Holly to you.”

***

June was asleep. In his bed that wasn’t a bed. And yet he couldn't imagine going into that room, sitting with her and Holly and perhaps allowing himself that crumb of hope. So he ended up on the balcony, smoking a cigarette every 20 minutes.

"Give me one of those," June ordered, suddenly standing right behind him.

He swallowed, but dug out the packet, pulling out another cigarette. 

"I thought you were asleep," he said, offering her his lighter.

"Thanks. Yeah, I was, for a while. What are _you_ doing out here?"

He shrugged. "Too much energy to sleep."

June chuckled. "Yeah, right. Do you know what I wish, Nick?"

"What?"

"That there was a way to erase all that shit. Every single piece of that place, every bad thing, all of it. That I wouldn't have to remember it all, or be so fucking scared all the time."

He nodded, unable to answer. She had every right to feel that way, but for him? He'd never loved a woman the way he loved her, and although sometimes the pain made him want to forget too, knowing she'd choose to forget about him hurt. A lot. Reminding himself that he had no right to be upset over something that should’ve been a given, he drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 

Erased. Meaningless. That was what his life felt like. No roots, no family. Were there many others like him out there? How did they cope with this?

"Don't you wish for that too?" She asked.

Drawing in another deep breath, he shrugged. "Sure, I wish I could forget a lot of it, and undo some of the things I did." It would be stupid to elaborate further. 

"Gilead turned everyone into the worst versions of themselves."

"Yeah."

"So, any plans on going to Hawaii?" She asked with a joyless laugh. He wondered if thinking about that moment made her as sad as it did him.

"No, don't feel like going there anymore."

"Luke wants us to take the girls there next winter."

"Sounds nice." A nice family vacation. Fuck.

”I’m not sure if I want that,” she confessed.

”How come?”

June’s eyes bore into his, as if asking how stupid he was. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Do you see Rita often?” He asked, changing the subject to what he seemed to be a safer one.

She shrugged. “She meets me and the girls at the playground sometimes, even watches them if I want to get coffee somewhere nearby or if I need to grab something from the store. But she never comes to dinner.”

”Do you know why?”

”Oh, she always says she’s too busy, but I think that’s a load of bull. I think it has something to do with you.”

Nick’s throat felt suddenly very dry. “Why would she not have dinner with your family because of me?”

”You tell me, Nick. It makes me feel guilty.”

”For what?” 

She shrugged. “I’m not even sure myself.”

”You have nothing to feel guilty about, and I doubt it’s what Rita’s trying to do. Maybe normal things like family dinners are just hard for her because of her son.”

”Maybe... We should go, before Hannah wakes up and starts to wonder where I've gone."

He nodded. "How's Hannah doing, by the way? Has she settled in well?"

June sighed. "It varies. She still panics often if she can't find Luke or me."

"Give it time."

"That's what her therapist keeps telling me. You know, I could kill all of them over and over again for what they did to her. How they've traumatized my daughter."

"I know."

"Do you- do you have anything you can use on Waterford if he comes here?"

"I've got it covered."

"But you won't let me have a gun?"

Biting into his lip, he engaged in an internal battle. He did have a second firearm, but June lived with kids and had little experience of using guns, not to mention that he didn't want her to get arrested for his illegal guns. 

"You could get into trouble."

"Do I look like I care, Nick? If you don't give me a gun, I'll have to find a way to get it myself."

Looking into her eyes, he didn't doubt for a second that she wouldn't do it. 

"Fine. We'll go to a firing range and go through all the safety procedures. Then I'll give you one of my guns. Deal?"

"Deal."

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Talk about suicide

The nightly news report was rolling on TV as June dried the dishes of the dinner they'd just finished. They had a dishwasher, but she still felt at home doing manual work. It was another Gilead remnant in her, another thing she would have to get rid of soon. _One day at a time. It would get better._

“Have you seen this, June?” Asked Luke from the couch.

“The news reports about the custody battles?”

“Yeah.”

“I have. Why?”

“Do you think Nick’s going to demand a DNA test?”

She hesitated, her hands stilled as she wondered where this discussion was going.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think so.”

“If he did, would you consent?”

“Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t you?”

Luke sighed. “I guess I would since you would, but I don’t see how that would benefit Holly. I know he seems like a good guy and you say he is one, but can you _really_ be sure? I mean, look at these reports... The Guardians don’t look innocent either.”

“I know who he is," she snapped. June knew she had to be very careful about what she said about Nick, but she couldn’t help herself. “He has no one, Luke. His family’s dead. Holly’s his only remaining blood relative. I refuse to be responsible for taking that away from him. He's not a danger to Holly, or us.”

“I get that. But shouldn’t we still be looking out for Holly’s well-being rather than Nick’s?”

"You're seriously questioning my dedication to my child's well-being?" Using excess force, she set the plate she'd been holding on the counter, where it tipped over the edge and broke into shards when it hit the floor.

_ Shit. _

"What was that? Do you need help?"

"No, I'll deal with it," she muttered, nearly adding a couple more well-chosen words. 

"You're a great mom, June. I'm not questioning that. I'm protecting our family."

"Since that's what you think you're doing, can you tell me something?"

"Sure."

"Is Holly really as important to you as Hannah? Or would you have let the monsters in Gilead take her back if they'd promised to give you Hannah back? Or me?"

"I thought Waterford was her biological father. You can't ask me that."

"Yeah, I fucking can. Can you answer me?"

"I- I don't know what you want me to say."

"If you don't want to answer the question, then stop questioning my decisions concerning Holly and Nick."

That was the full extent of their conversation that night. Things had been tense for a while, but after Waterford's escape the tension had escalated and she felt them drifting further from each other with each day.

***

_June felt Waterford’s dirty paws on her. She clawed at him as hard she could, but was still unable to fight him off._

“June, stop! June!” It was only Luke’s yells that woke her up, bringing her back to reality. Looking around their bedroom, she realized she was panting and covered in cold sweat. Luke turned on the bedside lamp, and the light revealed deep welts on his forearms. 

“Sorry,” she murmured, shaking her head. This wasn’t the first time she’d hurt Luke in her sleep, usually when he’d been holding her in his sleep. 

“It’s all right. I think I’m gonna go and sleep on the couch, give you some space.”

And it wasn’t like he enjoyed being punched or scratched or pushed off the mattress. It had happened much less frequently when she’d been able to rest with the knowledge that Waterford was behind bars. She no longer had that privilege.

“No... I’ll go. I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep.”

The first time she'd ended up at Nick’s door in the middle of the night had taken place after a similar event. It was she was only a visitor with Luke and Nick was her home. Back in Gilead, it had meant everything to her to know that Luke was safe in Toronto, looking for her and Hannah, and that he still loved her. In her imprisonment it had reminded her that she was still important to someone out there, that she was remembered and that she mattered even in the free world. Now she spent a lot of time trying to regain that same feeling about Luke, about their relationship, but it refused to come to her, and she had to wonder if the change was reversible at all.

June ducked her head into the girls’ room, where she’d recently moved Holly to sleep with Hannah. Both seemed to be sound asleep. As Luke’s snores became audible once more, she bit into her lip, itching to head over to Nick’s with Holly again. So far she hadn’t been caught , and she hadn’t come clean about it to Luke either. She could just say she was going to see Rita and Luke would never know the truth, but she didn’t like lying to him, even though she had become a real expert at it. It was another reminder that Gilead had corrupted her. 

As she took a seat on the couch, attempting not to give into her desire to find Nick, her thoughts spiraled into the darkest territories of her psyche. _How would Waterford find her? How would it happen? Would he see her outside when the girls were with her? Would he grab her by the elbow at the grocery store one day? Would he show up at her doorstep when she was alone?_ A shiver ran through her, but it wasn’t due to cold. She needed that gun, but Nick had yet to make good on his promise to take her to the shooting range. 

Fuck. 

***

Rita opened the door for them, taking June by surprise, as Nick had recently been at the door for them, as if expecting them. 

“Nick’s at work, but come inside,” whispered Rita, flashing a smile at the sleeping Holly. 

“At work?” She asked. Why hadn’t he told her about getting a job?

”Yeah. He didn’t tell you?” 

June shook her head in response, eliciting a sigh from the older woman.

”Of course not,” she muttered before continuing. “He’s a hospital janitor. They called him in tonight, there was an emergency of some kind. Do you want coffee or tea?”

”No, thanks. You should go back to sleep, Rita. We’ll manage here.”

”That’s nonsense, I’m already awake, and I don’t mind the company. Do you want the put Holly on her bed?”

She frowned. “I wasn’t aware she had a bed here.”

”Well, in all fairness, he brought it here today. It’s a travel cot. Heard him grumbling when he was trying to set it up for the first time,” Rita chuckled.

Peeking into Nick’s room, June saw it. The black travel cot was set up perfectly against the wall. There was even a yellow blanket in there. She knew she was being stupid, but tears sprung into her eyes. It was such a small thing that hardly revealed anything she didn’t already know, but it was still tangible proof that Nick loved his daughter, that he wanted her there even if he still refused to come and see her.

Holly stirred slightly when she moved her into the cot, but soon fell back asleep.

By the time June got back to the kitchen, Rita had set a large steaming teacup in front of her.

”You’re not having anything?” She asked, carefully taking a seat.

Rita shook her head. “It takes time to shake old habits.”

She nodded back, understanding exactly what Rita was saying. Even thinking about work felt strange, as if she was doing something fundamentally wrong by even wanting to work outside the home. Seeing revealing clothes on other women made her feel like yelling at them to cover themselves before someone saw and they were detained. 

“You’re lucky to have a family,” continued the older woman.

”I know.”

”I wish I still had mine, too. But at the same time, when I look at Nick, I wonder if this is for the best. If maybe nobody could’ve helped my boy either.”

With a sigh, Rita turned to look out the window. 

“Back then... I told myself every day that I had to live to see another day, to fight to regain what we lost, that it was the only way to honor his memory. Now... I don’t know. We’re all going to have to live with everything that happened, but only some of us will make it. You’re one of them, June.”

There were no words of solace June could think of to offer to Rita, so she simply covered the other woman's hand with hers. Rita's smile was sad, but she reached out to cover June's hand with her other one.

***

Turning off the lights, June laid down on Nick’s mattress to stare at the ceiling and wait. Slowly her body and mind began to relax, as both parts realized that Waterford would probably not find them there, that they were safe. 

The sound of the bedroom door closing brought June out of her somewhat peaceful slumber. She sat up, coming face-to-face with a weary Nick standing at the door, a dark blue work overall still on him.

”Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked.

”It’s okay. I wanted to talk to you.”

”Okay.”

”Why didn’t you tell me you got a job?”

”I only started a few days ago, and it’s only temporary anyway. Apparently their regular janitor broke his leg.”

”You got Holly a bed.”

”Is it the right kind? I wasn’t sure if these were safe, but it’s no like she’s ever going to live here, so I-“

”It’s perfect." His shoulders relaxed, now knowing he'd done the right thing.  "It’s okay for you to love her," she added quietly.

 “Did you- did you want to talk to me about something else?”

Closing her eyes, June sighed, annoyed by his unwillingness to talk about Holly. _Maybe it hurt too much._

”Yeah. You promised to take me shooting. When’s that happening?”

”Can you do Saturday night? I need to work the day shift at the hospital, but I’ll be off before five.”

Saturday night would be hard to explain to Luke. It was supposed to be their date night. Looking up at Nick, he nodded back at her.

”Sorry... I wasn’t thinking. We can do Tuesday morning, too.”

”I’ll ask Moira to babysit.”

”Great... I’d better let you have your privacy.”

He pulled on the handle to leave the room, but June stood up to stop him.

”Stay.”

”Why?”

_That was the question, wasn’t it?_

It was simple enough, so she could give it a simple answer, too. 

"Because I need you."

Luckily Nick had no more questions to ask. After leaving the room to change out of his work clothes, he returned wearing a t-shirt and loose sweatpants. She scooted over to make room for him. The mattress wasn't meant for two, but if they both stayed on their side, they'd fit. Nick stared at the spot beside her as if considering refusing it. She met his dark eyes, daring him to make a comment. True to his nature, he remained mute as he laid down.

*** 

 

“Auntie Moira reporting for babysitting duty.”

June grinned. “Awesome. Come in, Hannah’s doing homework and Holly’s about to eat.”

“Where are you going anyway?”

“Promise me you won’t tell Luke?”

Moira’s eyes narrowed. “Depends on what it is you want me to hide, but okay.”

“Nick’s taking me to a shooting range.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

“Is this because of Waterford?”

June nodded. “Yeah. I want to know how to shoot.”

“You don’t even have a gun.”

“I will, soon.”

“Let me guess, Nick’s going to hook you up with one?” 

“You got it.”

Her best friend shook her head in disbelief.

“I think you’re making a big mistake by having any contact with that guy.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s one of them, to begin with. Besides, I think he’s got a thing for you.”

Nick’s current feelings for her weren’t something June liked to dwell on too much, but it could be true. Telling Moira everything would give her another person to rely on about all this, but she couldn’t burden her best friend with keeping the secret from Luke.

“What if he did have a thing for me?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you? He lived in a world where men could get anything they wanted with a snap of their fingers. You’re a piece of meat for him.”

Closing her eyes, June tried not to snap at Moira. She understood her aversion to Gilead men, but she was judging Nick based on the behavior and crimes of others. There hadn't been much of a need for them to talk about Nick, since he'd left so soon after getting to Toronto, but it was already making her almost as anxious as discussing Nick with Luke was.

“You don’t know him,” she simply replied.

“Do _you_? I know the likes of him, I hope I don’t have to remind you-“

“You don’t, okay? But Nick didn’t do any of that. What happened to you had nothing to do with him.”

“Whatever. He was one of them, he joined them because he _wanted_ to. Not because he was forced. I've seen those men, too. They're victims, like we are. But Nick is not. Why do you care so much about him anyway, June?”

“He’s a good man, and Holly’s biological father. Isn’t that enough?”

”No, it shouldn’t be. Some things can’t be forgiven, no matter what happens.”

”I love you, Moira. I don’t want this to come between us.”

”Me neither. Look, you socialize with him if you want to. I won’t stop you. Let’s just agree to disagree, and be careful," sighed Moira.

"Sounds good to me. Make yourself at home, you know where everything is."

"I will. But you know what, June?"

"What?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were going out on a date."

 

***

When you only get a peaceful moment together every now and then, you learn to know the other person’s body language to detect their emotions. Nick had always acted in front of most people in Gilead, the carefully constructed mask of indifference in place. Now his shoulders slumped every time he thought she wasn’t looking, his face falling, leaving behind an empty look of total devastation and weariness. Now the act was for her, and it angered her. 

To her, he was the only person who knew all her secrets and who was afraid of nothing she was capable of voicing, unlike Luke who was scared of her brokenness. And yet to him, she was someone who now only deserved the public version of Nick Blaine. 

They were all broken. Her. Moira. Emily. Rita. Nick. Like peas on a pod in some ways, except that one of them would never be offered help. The refugee community only had limited resources and rehabilitating the men was not a priority. There was so much hatred for them, a lot of it deserved, but then there were people who just needed help, like Nick. She was the last person who could help him, since she could barely hold herself together.  

Nick was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong” he assured her, but as she observed him, she couldn’t help but think that if he was truly hurting this much, there was clearly something she’d failed at.

Broaching the subject with him was hard. Nick wouldn’t open up if she tried too hard.

“You don’t look good,” she told him. 

He shrugged, sighing. “I didn’t expect to live to see this. I guess I expected I’d either die or that they’d lock me up for the rest of my life... I didn’t have a plan, still don’t, so it’s... It takes time,” he confessed with a shrug of his shoulders. 

”A bulls-eye for a truth.”

“What?”

“If I hit the bulls-eye, I get to ask you a question and you have to give me an honest answer.”

“And I I hit the bulls-eye, I get to ask you a question?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. You want me to shoot first?” 

June nodded. With little effort, he raised the gun and released a single shot. They both peered at the target: it was a perfect bulls-eye.

“Go ahead, then.”

“What exactly did you tell Luke? About me.”

She drew in a deep breath. It wasn’t a surprising question, but answering it still made her uncomfortable. _Because you’re lying to your husband. Like he lied to Annie._

“I said that you’re Holly’s father, that Serena orchestrated the whole thing. That you’re not a rapist.”

“Okay.”

“Do you think I should’ve told him more than that?”

“I thought it was my turn to ask a question, if you hit the bulls-eye. You're a cheat.”

“Please, Nick.”

“I think you have the right to choose what to tell him. If not telling him bothers you, come clean. If you can live with it hiding it, don’t. Let’s go on with our lives like this was all about Serena.”

“I- I don’t think Luke would understand if I told him everything. He wasn’t there.”

“No, he wasn’t. I don’t know your husband well, butyou love him a lot and that means he’s got to be good. He’d understand that you did what you had to survive.”

“I doubt it.”

“Then we’ll go to our graves with that secret. You choose, I’ll live with it. Aside from the two of us, Rita’s the only one who knows, right?”

“Right.”

“She’s not going to tell anyone, and neither am I.”

“I know that.” 

Nick had always been serious, but since his return, even the tiny secret smiles he’d meant just for her had been mostly absent. The sadness in him was more pronounced now, and he’d lost weight. Clearly the life he was living rebuilding the country wasn’t making him happy.  

Luke was already suspicious of Nick’s motives, and telling him the truth would only make things worse. There would be more arguments, more jealousy, this time over her rather than Holly. Luke would be hurt. Moira would know too. She wanted to think it wouldn’t have an effect on their friendship, but Moira wouldn’t understand, at least not at first. She would judge her, think she was crazy or that Nick had somehow brainwashed her. She couldn’t deal with that, at least not now when there was still so much to figure out anyway.

“Why did you leave?”

”We’ve been over this, June.”

”Answer me.”

”Because it was the only way.”

”No, it wasn’t. You didn’t give me a choice.”

”I thought that was exactly what I was doing by leaving.”

”No, Nick. You chose for me. For Holly. For yourself.”

”You wanted your life back.”

”I didn’t fucking know what I wanted! Ask me if there could’ve been other outcomes.”

”It’s not even my turn to shoot.”

”Fuck that. Ask me, Nick.”

He took a step towards her, keeping his eyes on hers the entire time. June knew exactly how this conversation would end if things were different. He would kiss her now, perhaps press her against the wall behind them. If they were truly alone, she’d tell him to fuck her right then and there. Shaking her head, June forced herself back into reality, which was that she was basically happily married, and not to the man whose hands she yearned to feel on her body again. Closing her eyes to break the contact, she repeated to herself that she was done with drama. Forever. And Nick had the potential to bring much of it into all their lives.

”I don’t want to hear the answer, June,” he told her. 

“Because it might mean you messed up by leaving?”

”Because I don’t _want_ hope. Not even a little bit of it.”

”That’s bullshit. Everyone wants hope.”

”I don’t. You tell me it’s hard to go back to our old life and I believe you, but... You’re still going to keep trying, aren’t you?”

”I have to.”

”That’s the only answer I need. The rest is semantics and speculation.”

”Are you going to kill yourself?”

Brown eyes widening, Nick was taken aback by her bold question. 

“You don’t want to know what’s in my head,” he replied hastily.

”Why not?”

”I’m fucked up.”

”I know. So am I.”

”You have enough problems as it is. Let me take care of mine.”

”It’s my problem too if you kill yourself.”

”It shouldn’t be.”

Nick was resigned, and June felt anger bubbling inside of her. She'd yelled at him when she'd felt powerless and frustrated in Gilead, and now she felt like that again. This time it was about being powerless to save him, and she wasn't sure if even her anger would enough to bring him back.

 

 

 


End file.
